


Compare and Contrast

by TheBadgeringWitness



Series: The Castle Poltergeist Series [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: A Ghost Too Far crossover, Gen, Gen Fic, Post-Canon, Swearing, Umbridge Bashing, i'm allowed to do that, pink is a great color and deserves to be respected, yes this is a shameless crossover with my other fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-24
Updated: 2017-05-24
Packaged: 2018-11-04 01:38:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10980657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBadgeringWitness/pseuds/TheBadgeringWitness
Summary: Peeves has a complicated relationship with the color pink.





	Compare and Contrast

Peeves used to kind of  _ hate  _ pink. 

Oh, he didn’t always. He loved things that were bright and in-your-face, unconventional, or something that other people tended to turn their nose up at. Peeves loved orange the most, since it was bright and attractive without drawing to mind bloody battles or the sunshine or the sky or anything poetic like that. Pink, on the other hand, was a color used sparingly in nature, it seemed, only deemed right for flowers, and often used in the high-classes, or when someone washed a red tunic with a white one by accident. Pink was less common, but it was there, and it never shown in that bright, flashy way he liked other colors to be.

Poisonous green, royal purple, bright orange, maraschino-cherry red…  _ These  _ were his favorites. They were obnoxious and bold, and yet you couldn’t look away from them when they were present. Like him, really.

Peeves loved to shove it in people’s faces that Hogwarts’ poltergeist was dressed like the upper-class, and therefore on the same playing field as them. It was hilarious to see lords of all ages frown upon first seeing him in the castle, and then fly into rages when he refused to dress ‘as appropriate to his station’. Whether it was pink or purple or deep blue, they all hated whatever he decided to wear. It was the easiest way to piss someone off, so he relished every moment of it.

Time went on, pink became more popular, and then something happened to give everyone the impression that pink was no longer a common color for a man to be associated with, and suddenly pink was deemed girlish and cute, and therefore something to look down upon with sneers when they weren’t making the comparison to feminine beauty. 

Peeves, ever the rebel, decided  _ not  _ to hate pink. His few pink things had decayed over time long before then, so by this time he was now dressed in bright red with splashes of orange and yellow and a touch of white, but he made sure to annoy young boys and grown men by splashing pink on their things somehow. However, as time went on, he couldn’t help but make fun of the few boys who decided to wear pink, too, because he liked to get under people’s skin any way he could, and they made it easy for him. He  _ almost  _ started to believe that pink really was inferior, despite the evidence of many pink-wearing young women who could out-duel their male counterparts. Almost. He barely caught himself before he fell into  _ that  _ trap.

And then, one Miss Dolores Umbridge, a puny Slytherin with a girlish giggle and the frilliest, girliest wardrobe anyone had ever seen, had started studying at Hogwarts. Peeves had seen frills and lace and pink in copious amounts before, but Umbridge took it to an annoying new height. He made sure to ruin as many pink robes and bows as possible during her seven years of education. At the end of it, Peeves had seen her out with an ink-pot to the back of her favorite dress and the hope he’d never have to see that much pink at once ever again. 

But of course she came back years later, with an even uglier mug and a bigger collection of pink things. She had come back ten times nastier than she was as a child, imposing all sorts of rules and thinking that she was the Queen of the castle, attempting to rule over the students with an iron fist, and her cruelty got to the point where even the castle ghosts had told Peeves he could do whatever he liked short of mortal harm, as long as he got kids out of her grasp. 

Peeves, of course, had already been going out of his way to annoy her, but once Fred Weasley - one of the only living people he respected in recent memory - asked him to give her hell, he worked day and night, fueled by his own pride, his ever-growing hatred towards her, and the copious amounts of distressed magic kids had been giving off for weeks. He took particular joy in ruining her wardrobe and breaking her kitten-clad plates any chance he could get, all of which had pink somewhere on them. 

For quite a while, anything that was pink was Umbridge’s, and it  _ had  _ to be destroyed. Pink was no longer just a color, just an object of status or mockery - it was a sign of the enemy. Even after he chased her out of the castle with a sock of chalk in one hand and McGonagall's cane in another, smacking her as harshly as she deserved for the countless acts of hatred and terror she had inflicted upon the Hogwarts’ residents, he couldn’t quite shake the compulsion to frown and wrinkle his nose in disgust whenever he saw pink, be it on a girl’s hair-tie or a pair of sneakers or a confectionary flower on a cake. 

And then, another witch arrived, bringing with her the color on her head. It wasn’t pale pastel or plain or dusty rose, the kinds of pinks Umbridge favored. It was  _ hot pink _ , so eye-catching and bold that Peeves stared a little. Maybe it was also because of the witch-in-question’s unusual hairstyle. It was like a mohawk, but instead of shaving the sides of her head, she kept it short, and just swept the hair in the middle into a series of points. A  _ fauxhawk _ . It could be punkish one day and side-swept and business-like the next. It was  _ genius _ .

The real kicker was that she was a teacher. Of the same subject, no less. A rebellious hairstyle that said “fuck this” paired with a wardrobe of muggle suits that said “I know my shit, I’m a professional”. Her suits varied in colors and styles, and some had skirts instead of pants, but they were all unusual. Black with pink pin-stripes. Lavender and purple stripes. Solid yellow. Cherry red. Hot pink. Pale pink and white. Burnt orange. All of them were paired with matching or contrasting ties, some with colored shirts, and she even mixed and matched pieces, but all of them made Peeves turn his head to look. She never wore robes, never took off her sunglasses, and never changed her hair color. 

She never talked down to anyone, either. Always had a mischievous laugh on her lips and a secret in her smile. Always treated Peeves like he was an interesting, engaging person, rather than a pest. She swore and allowed the kids to bend or break some rules, walked with confidence and caused a little chaos almost everywhere she went, and she always had a story, be it one of herself or one prepared to get herself or Peeves out of trouble. 

Dandrane Flemming was the complete opposite of Dolores Umbridge. Dandrane was tall, fun, and so obviously against the grain. Dolores was short, uptight, and clung to her society’s rules of appropriate behavior and appearances and blood-status as if to do otherwise would mean death. 

Pink no longer meant tacky decorative plates and perfectly-placed frilly doilies and excessively-feminine clothes. Pink was neon signs with swears in them, bubblegum that floated to the ceiling and refused to pop for days, and spikes of hair kept upright with gel and medium-hold hairspray. It was ambiguously-gendered suits, crinkled bedding, and lip gloss smeared during three-A.M. talks. Books crammed on shelves, muggle pens that skated across paper with unnatural ease, and round sunglasses, too, were all now associated with it, even if the color didn’t show up on the things in question.

Pink was  _ Dandrane’s  _ color. It felt so natural to give such an obnoxious color to her. She took it, transformed it, and made sure everyone could see it.

Occasionally, Peeves still felt disgusted at the sight of a pink hair bow on someone’s head. In those moments, he just looked at Dandrane, with her shocking pink hair and flashy muggle attire, and he was reminded just how amazing and in-your-face pink could be. 

Peeves may have preferred orange, but he was rather glad he found himself liking pink again.

**Author's Note:**

> ...I really just wondered if Peeves had grown a hatred for pink things, since little miss "I wear pink bows 24/7" Dolores was an unbelievable asshole in Hogwarts' teaching history, and Peeves spent a lot of effort on making her frustrated and miserable. My fingers did the rest, and for some reason I was thinking of those tumblr mood-boards so that kind of influence got mixed in there. Also, yes, Peeves favorite color is orange! It’s perfect for him! I don’t care if Rowling comes forth and says it’s actually green, it’s totally orange!!!
> 
> Also, you can take this as shippy _or_ platonic, it's all good. Thanks for reading! ~ヾ(＾∇＾)


End file.
